Making the best of a bad situation
by RDJN
Summary: A self insert into Gotham that tries to be realistic in a fictional universe. What could go wrong? My first try at fanfiction. Male POV and an undecided pairing so far (review and tell me which way you want this to go).
1. Chapter 1

I do not own the rights to any DC content.

This is my first attempt at writing any fanfiction. By all means give me criticism. I need the help because DC isn't my forte in knowledge.

Chapter 1

_Inner thoughts_

**Gotham City**

I woke up like I usually did, a little hazy in the eyes, turning over and enjoying that blissful state in-between deep sleep and being awake. I pushed my face further into the cool side of the pillow and hummed contently. Vaguely I could hear cars through the wall and window next to me, and the thumping of footsteps above my room. I stretched, reaching back with my arms to loosen my shoulder blades and flexed my legs to enjoy that semi enjoyable pleasure I get all across my body as circulation returned to

_Wait a second my sister is away at University there shouldn't be anyone thumping upstairs_

I then did the obvious thing, and opened my damn eyes to see that this was not my room. I don't normally think about the ceiling in my room, but I knew it wasn't painted sunflower yellow. I slowly took in the rest of the room, and while it was immediately apparent this wasn't the room I went to sleep in, it also looked like many of the rooms in the dorms I stayed at during my first year at University. I blinked a couple times. Then I pinched myself. I pinched myself a little harder again but I didn't know if that actually worked if you were in a dream or a hallucination.

I'm not one to panic unnecessarily, I thought anyway, probably due to my slight anal obsession with seeing the logic. That's why I then looked down at myself and breathed out slightly in relief, then gasped in confusion. I had thought I was still me because when I stretched, I didn't feel any different. Still 4 limbs and still an annoying 5"10. _Damn my dad for constantly telling me I'd outgrow his 6"1 and it being utter horseshit. _What was different was the lack of bigger than average muscles. I wasn't an amazing bodybuilder, but I had worked for 6 years since I was 16 on building a 200lb frame of muscle and fat. But I couldn't see any of it. My arms were slim with no definition, my torso had no thick abdominals when I tensed _(but also no lower ab fat I could never get rid of) _and the worst; my legs looked like chicken legs! Having built my legs so much, they were the muscles I was most proud of, and now _ugh_.

I flopped back in the bed in a little bit of a huff, but rapidly realised that wasn't getting me any closer to the answers of the list of questions that were building up. Where was I? Why was I wherever I was? When did I get here? How did I get here? More importantly, _how did I get back? _

I sat up and swung my legs off the double bed, _if this is uni accommodation its better than what I had that's for sure, _and stood up in front of the window to the right of the bed. The room was fairly normal for a bedroom, 4 walls with a door set in one and a window set in another, but not across from the door. Opposite the door was the bed, and opposite the window were an _oak? _wooden wardrobe and separate drawers filling up the width of that wall. The walls themselves were the same ungodly bright sunflower yellow as the ceiling. I have nothing against yellow, but I was more used to blues, greys and browns in the morning than the cheery yellow on all sides of my perception.

_Enough of that, the window was more important. _I looked out and what I saw didn't fill me with much but a dreary feeling that didn't help my already befuddled _nice word me _and slightly wary mood. The first thing I noticed was the overcast cloud coverage, which didn't let in much light. The second thing was that I was obviously now in a city, if the highrise buildings, skyscrapers, residential tower blocks and lack of greenery were to go by. There wasn't much else to see. I knew now however that I was in one of these tower blocks, maybe half way up (I poked my head out the window to see how far I was up the building) and that it wasn't the worst building I'd seen. No crumbling rock or brick, fairly uniform and the colour brown. So instead I turned around and thought for a minute.

_Don't panic brain, as strange as this is, panicking is the worst thing to do. I'm in a city, a somewhat large city from what I could see and I have a room. No one has come to bang on the door, nobody has walked in and declared I've been kidnapped (is it still kidnapped when you're an adult? … focus) so just look around the room for anything to tell you where you are and why you're here._

I spent the next 10 minutes opening drawers, cupboards and even searching under the bed for anything I could find. The bedside table had the best stuff; a phone, a wallet, keys, and brochures to a certain Gotham City University. I had looked at it briefly when I found it, and promptly put it in my loot pile and tried to ignore the obvious while I had ransacked _carefully investigated _the rest of my room. The drawers held clothes, obviously, the wardrobe more of the same along with football boots, _(soccer boots? If where I think I am is true), _helmet, jackets, coats, more shoes and a pile of textbooks half the size of me. Nothing was under the bed, and that was as much as I found.

I sat back on the bed next to the loot pile, then reached for the brochure and pile of papers that came with it. The first piece of paper under the glaringly obvious sign (brochure) saying **We're not in Kansas anymore **was a proof of student identity.

Gotham City University

Student Number: 17008526

Surname: Rookwood

Forename/s: David

Date of Birth: 08/10/2001

Underneath this was a list of classes and modules this David Rookwood was apparently enrolled in, along with the amount of credits each class was worth, and a bunch of shorthand like MCE for mechanical engineering. I was understandably still confused. That wasn't my name, nor my birthday, and I didn't live in Gotham City. Either this was some amazing matrix style illusion and I'm actually in a vat of liquid somewhere, or I've been drugged with an amazing hallucination or any number of things, what was important was **this felt real. **I've never hallucinated, had waking nightmares etc, and where I came from magic did not exist. And since I could think and breathe and feel everything as exactly like normal, I didn't shy away from the answer.

Where was I? _Gotham city in a fictional world. But not really fictional anymore I guess, if I go with this as actually being a reality._

I didn't know the answers to the rest, but neither could I find out right away. Dimensional travel, soul moving, god playing whatever, I was in Gotham by someone's design, or maybe even by random and unless I woke up back in my Earth, I was stuck here.

I saw the phone out of the corner of my eye, from where I was staring at the bunch of papers that included class timetables, recommended reading lists and required reading. I picked it up and turned it on. The background was somewhat shockingly a picture of me! Though it did look like a younger me for some reason. "Fuck that's creepy" slipped out of my mouth, seeing my average looking mug, doing a half smile and flexing for the selfie David _me? _had taken in a bathroom mirror somewhere. Now either I looked exactly like David a few years ago, or… or what? I swiped up like I would with my phone but nothing happened. Looking again I saw this phone looked similar to an iPhone, but that didn't help much as I had always got androids before. However I knew, or I thought I knew that most had fingerprint protection, so I placed my thumb over the little circle at the bottom of the phone and held my breath. It unlocked. It actually unlocked.

I spent the next 30 minutes searching the phone, from contacts in the phones address book, to messages, to stored pictures _how narcissistic was this guy, put a shirt on for damn sake _to apps from a calorie counter to what looked like an upmarket Tinder. The contact list wasn't large, and ominously didn't have either a 'mum' or 'dad' saved in it. It had taxi numbers, a place called '24/7 Pizza' and a number saved as 'Scholarship mentor'. There were a few others, general names that I guessed were this David's friends, but nothing much else. The photos the guy had were either of places in Gotham, like the public library, an orphanage called Martha's Orphanage (the lettering was on the front of a large stone building in the picture), himself, or pictures of whiteboards with equations and notes on them; pretty self-explanatory and unhelpful. None with any parents. None with even a foster family, and my mind was starting to make some shaky conclusions to what I think had happened…

_This David may or may not be an orphan, lived in an orphanage, and somehow got maybe a grant? scholarship, probably from a Wayne trust if he lived in a Wayne orphanage. _

_I look exactly like this dude in the photos. But I also look like I did 5-6 years ago. _

_Apparently I have similar enough fingerprints, which are supposed to be so unique its in the realm of impossibility._

_The phone tells me it's the 25__th__ August 2019, making David 17. Have I somehow found my way into an alternate me? A fictional younger alternate me!?_

_That's kinda scary and annoying, in that I was on my way to finishing my degree, getting a job and starting my life. I also have a mum, a dad, a sister and a car. If I'm stuck here not only have I lost all the work I put into my life, but essentially it's like my entire family dying. Same chance of seeing them ever again. _

I was sat on that bed for a little while longer. I didn't know whether to get over this now and focus on what was to me a new world or hold out hope that if I went to sleep, I'd wake up back at home with the family I loved. Getting over it now would be best, but if I did wake back up in my normal world, I would feel crappy as hell by how easily I got over it? Instead of spiralling down, I did what I normally did with questions or things out of my control. Ignore the fuck out of it. If you don't even entertain something, its damn easy to get rid of a load of worries. It had worked for exam stress and we would see in time if it worked here too.

With that little pep talk to myself, I looked down again and seeing how I only had boxers on, I rummaged through the drawers and put on some comfy cotton joggers _thank god, _a simple black t-shirt, a jumper and when I didn't see shoes, I realised it was time to actually get out of the room. I placed the phone, wallet and keys in my jogger pockets, put all the papers back in the bedside table but kept the brochure. I had noticed the timetable had classes starting in a couple weeks on the 7th September, and if by some miracle I was still here then, I wanted to know where it was and what I had been rudely dropped into.

Opening the door, I saw an apartment. Honestly I had expected maybe dorm rooms, or a corridor to a communal kitchen. I didn't know how this David could afford an honest to god apartment with a roomy living room, open plan kitchen/diner and a decent sized bedroom… but I'm not going to complain. Thus began another half hour search, with more and more clues about this David. A well stocked kitchen, with meat and veg and fizzy drinks. A leather sofa, tv and finally, hidden under some pillows was the laptop. The summary for this next bit is that David liked playing a lot of Skyrim, Zelda and had a Netflix account filled to the brim with anime. I'd checked his internet history _if it was just him living here he didn't need to delete it _and had to stop myself from having a spontaneous jerk off. We had much the same kinks lets put it that way.

Fortunately for me, he had a folder called 'Homework' which contained all his passwords, first for his online banking and debit cards, then for his University, then for a host of _guy _stuff that I would definitely be looking at later. I went straight to checking his bank balance and looked at his transactions. From what I saw, he had standing orders for the apartments rent, bills and Netflix (not to mention the other websites). The money coming in came from two different places. One called 'Wayne Grants' and the other 'Trust'. Luckily for me, if I was going to be staying here, the income looked enough to sustain me, but I would have to check how long this trust would last, so wrote down the name of the account to look up later. I guessed it was from David's parents, or maybe even grandparents, and I knew trusts tended to either run out, or end at a specific age. I had my fingers crossed it wasn't 18.

After that I decided on breakfast. _Hehehe, if you thought I was going to sit down and spend hours deciding straight away how I could mess with canon DC, choosing whether I would be a hero or villain, then find 101 ways to get cool powers, guess again. First, I'm hungry. Second, I don't know a lot about DC… I mean I've watched the films, seen dozens of Instagram posts about this comic or that comic, but none of that is some cheat code or map to unbelievable power and glory. I don't even know the difference between DC worlds! This could be that injustice storyline everyone loves to hate. Regardless, I know Gotham is bad news in general, but is it naïve to think there must be some semblance of normal life here? There can't be villains left right and centre on every street corner right? Eh, I'll find out soon I guess. But first food. _

After breakfast, I put on the shoes I had spied next to the front door along with a cheap leather jacket and left the apartment. For the rest of the day, while there was some sort of light out, I walked around the city. I steered clear of alleyways, of any roads or paths leading to what looked like a less well-off area. I visited the library, the University and walked across from Wayne tower which is a huge steel and glass monstrosity. I also went shopping. It may have been morally dubious, to use the money of David Rookwood to buy water and lunch _(thankyou alternate me for putting your cards pin number in that homework folder), _but after walking round for a few hours, seeing an entire new city, an entire new WORLD, I had stopped thinking that I would be returning home anytime soon. No simulation, hallucination, dream or vision was this detailed, this real. And if God somewhere above me hadn't realised a soul from one dimension had slipped into this one already and shunted me back, then I would act as if I were here for the long haul, and bury my feelings about home beneath a lot of conjured apathy (_read bullshit). _That meant, for the time being, I **was **David Rookwood.

Which is why on my way home I stopped off at the local gym and bought myself a membership for the next 6 months. No way was I staying this skinny. It was called 'The Basement', was open 24/7 and had a mix of eleiko powerlifting equipment, old school bodybuilding machines and free weights and even better, a goddamn strongman corner. 5 atlas stones weighing 70, 100, 130, 160 and 190kg, yolk bar with free weights and a strongman log. I had bought the membership in the first minute of the free look around. No way could I pass up the quality of this gym, it was at least 3 times as good as old earths. To go with it I also bought a tub of whey protein and a tub of BCAA pre-workout.

Once I had gotten back to the apartment, I spent the evening eating cooked chicken and finally searching the internet for every scrap of information on this new world. I didn't know why I needed to. On one hand, if I went to GSU, kept my head down and got a job, it wouldn't matter where I am. On the other, I'd read fanfiction, and even if I hadn't, no one gets punted into a new world and has an easy life. If it was some higher power, I had bad things in my future. And if I had the kind of bad luck to be shifted from one dimension into another, then what could that luck do to me with an entire city full of mentally unstable villains and arguably mentally unstable spandex wearing heroes? _That was rhetorical._

The internet gave me most of the basics. This wasn't the mess that was the DCU. Batman was still Batman. There was Superman in metropolis, a Flash in Central City, Green arrow in Star City, Wonder Woman flitting around and a Green Lantern that had popped up once or twice. I didn't know if there was a Manhunter yet, Aquaman or Cyborg, but there were a few sidekicks jumping around. I had searched 'Superheroes' and along with the top dogs, there were articles on a Robin, a Kid Flash, a Black Canary and Red Arrow to name the ones that came up the most. It was almost overwhelming. These were what seemed to be the most active or the most popular heroes, but there were dozens of names linked to cities across the world.

I took a breather at this point to plan. There didn't seem to be a united Justice League yet, but some websites and articles did write about 'team ups' between some of the heroes. Either way, Gotham or not I was eventually going to run into a hero or a villain (_like come on this is almost becoming one of those SI I've read). _But if I stayed in Gotham, I had shelter, food, money and education. Maybe Gotham had the worst rep with all the villains it had, but at least they were mostly human villains and not metahumans. That had to count for something I thought, especially if preteen robins could kick their ass.

So, I was staying in Gotham. Having decided that, I started compiling the list of villains and anti-heroes that were based here along with what the media knew about their powers, abilities and skills. If I did meet one I wanted to be prepared to either take advantage of a weakness or run the fuck away and get away! I would also need to start training hard. I needed to be quick enough to run, but also strong enough to protect myself in this world. I wasn't trying to be pessimistic but if I did run into some knuckleheads, I wanted to give back as much as I got.

Once I had finished for the night, I put an alarm on the phone, plugged it into the charger next to the bed and went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For the last week and a half I had been busy. Today was the 6th, one day before my classes were due to start, and oh man had things changed. Each day breakfast was muesli and a protein shake. Then I walked the 5 minutes to the gym and spent 1-2hours working on explosive whole body power. This meant shuttle runs with and without weights; box jumps; yolk bar speed runs (for now just the yolk bar and no extra weight); bodyweight press ups and handstand press ups with my back against the wall. I would walk back to the apartment, nodding to the people I saw most days in the shops or the gym and make myself chicken sandwiches.

The afternoon would be spent between reading the required list for classes and checking the news and forums for more information on Gotham. At the moment most villains were either laying low or in Arkham Asylum. Then before it got dark _darker than it usually is during the day _I went back to the gym to do either a push, pull or leg day. I planned to cycle through this twice a week, with one week using low weights and high repetitions, the next week with heavy weights and low repetitions _(or as high as I could go at the minute, I was so weak)_.

Now having gone through this once already in the old world, I knew building both muscles or strength took time. Months of time. Years if I'm being honest to get a truly good physique. Yet.. I never felt sore after training or during training really. It took a lot more repetitions than it should before I felt the burn of lactic acid. I expected painful DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) every morning and a host of cramps lasting days in this body that wasn't used to this much exercise. The soreness lasted maybe an hour at most, and each day I woke up feeling fresh and ready for the workouts. It was painful, but it was like the pain was condensed into an hour of recovery straight after training, leaving me invigorated and able to do the second workout with ease.

At first I thought this was a quirk of this new world. Maybe everyone had better healing? Muscle regeneration factors? Lactic acid threshold higher than the old world? But the internet told me different. Humans were the same, training was the same and recovery looked to be the same.

I questioned it of course. But I didn't have an underground lab to look at what my body was doing, nor check my DNA or a magical wand to see if I had some mystical recovery spell on me. Instead I was quietly grateful and looked pleasantly surprised when the scales showed I'd put on +6 lbs to reach 148lbs. Due to this I had been eating a lot more than I was used to, and drinking 2-3 shakes a day just to keep up with whatever process my body was doing to repair the muscle fibres so quickly.

I had also joined the gyms self defence class. It ran twice a week, once on Monday and once on Thursday between 8pm and 10pm. Ironically trying to better protect myself against Gotham's nightlife meant I had to risk being out AT night. So far though nothing had happened, though you did see more shady characters at that time while the rest of the population put their heads down and scuttled home. I guess for now I was one of the scuttlers too.

I walked into my first class of the day, Advanced Math. The reading ended up being a bunch of exercise sheets to complete and hand in that had me stumped a few times. I wasn't stupid, but nor was I a genius and I had forgotten more math knowledge than I had retained. Still I did my best and hoped it was meant to be the sort of pre-class exercise to gauge our level, and not be expected to ace the entire thing. I checked out the rest of the class while we were stood waiting to be assigned seats. An even mixture of girls to boys, most looked upper class but normal, while one or two had a badge denoting a scholarship. I had one and no way was I putting it on and segregating myself that early. While I was fine with being an introvert most of the time, that was my choice. I didn't know how things worked in America or this world but I did know standing out either made you popular or an outcast.

While I was casually looking around the people and they did the same, I had noticed a few beautiful girls. I tried not to let my eyes linger (_subtlety isn't my strongest) _for two reasons.

Getting caught ogling is embarrassing

Although only a 4 year _mental _difference it still felt a little creepy…

Bah. Who was I kidding, there was no way I'd be able to keep my eyes off the knockout redhead throughout the year. She was wearing blue jeans that looked painted on to muscular but slender legs. Shapely hips that tapered into a narrow waist I could imagine circling with my arms. A form fitting black shirt covered her torso, hiding a generous chest and revealing milky white skin. Strangely beautiful collar bones, a delectable neck I would love to mark and flaming red hair framing the most intense sea blue eyes _THAT WERE STARING RIGHT BACK YOU IDIOT. _Fuck. Double fuck I was still staring. Immediately I shifted my eye line over her shoulder and tried to style it out as if I had been staring into the distance. I didn't think it worked by the frown I could see marring her face in the corner of my vision.

Thankfully, saving me from making more of a bad first impression, Professor Green, a good looking woman and math genius called out "Good morning everyone. Welcome to your first year at GCU and I hope you all enjoy your time here. I am Professor Green, but you can call me Professor or Miss Green while in this class. When I call your name head towards the table I point out to you, then we can get on with grading the exercise sheets you had for this class". By this point I had turned around completely to face the Professor. The letter R was near the bottom of the alphabet so I knew I'd be stood here for a while.

"Barbara Gordon, the table in the back right corner please".

_Are you kidding me. Which godly entity is fucking with me right now. No way is she in the same class as me, the same year, the same anything! How about I don't eye fuck the future Oracle who could hack into all my depraved porn memberships! _

"David Rookwood, Miss Gordon's table if you would". I stood there still as a statue for maybe 10 seconds. In my head I was raging and spitting fire to every God or Goddess I could name. _Fuck you too Zeus. _After calming down and hoping I had kept a blank face I walked across to the seat next to the Commissioner's daughter. As I got closer I met her eyes again and gave a quick noncommittal nod and sat down, leaving plenty of space between us. _She probably already thinks I'm a creepy nerd, so at least try to be a polite creep and keep my distance. _

Professor Green, having finished roll call a few names later while I had been having my internal hissy fit, started off the lesson by getting us all to switch exercise sheets with the person we were sat with. I got mine out, half turned to Barbara to place it on her desk while she did the same with hers. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her open up her pencil case to get a red pen, while I had got a green one.

"Hey, could you use a red pen to tick or cross, I normally go over wrong answers and write the correct answer in green" she quietly asked. She hadn't turned her head, but had leant a little closer.

"Sure" I answered.

With that riveting first conversation we marked each others work in silence like the rest of the class. Out of the 52 questions, she ended up with 46 correct. We exchanged them again, and I saw I had achieved 35 out of 52. It could have been worse honestly, and I was fairly proud with my score considering what I thought was a difficult quiz. I expected Barbara to be smiling, maybe even smirk in my direction but all I could see was a little twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't know if that was an amused twitch with the scores, or an upset twitch at getting any of them wrong.

The rest of the lesson concerned outlining objectives, mid-term projects and the exams at the end of the year. In fact the whole day was much the same; teachers would welcome the class, go over the course structure in general and perhaps touch on essays due or projects planned between then and Christmas. Unfortunately I did discover I shared near enough half my classes with the genius Gordon. I resolved to try keep myself under the radar. No more salivating over her looks. Keep conversation to hellos and goodbyes and maybe, just maybe I could get through this year without being embroiled in some Batman/Batgirl drama.

_Who was I kidding. _

Short-sighted. That was the word for me.

"After the dickhead!" was shouted from not far behind me amongst the sounds of pounding feet, ringing metal and squeak of leather.

"Yah making this worse fah ya self asswipe" snarled one of the brutes towards the back. I hadn't gotten a good look at individuals, but I did remember a huge guy with a steel baseball bat held in one hand and desperately hoped he had fallen behind.

"Get back here" "We just want to chat" "Where are you running to **little** **boy**"

"That one-" I huffed mid step "stung." I had been running for nearly 5 minutes and my heart was pounding with adrenaline. I knew I could keep this up for a long time due to my powers? but although I had been training hard for a month now I still wasn't quick enough to outrun them. Just because I wouldn't feel the burn before them didn't mean I could shake them off either and the worrying niggle in the back of my mind kept on whispering that I was being penned in. Corralled into a corner like some goddamn bambi with the wolves nipping at my heels until I had nowhere else to run. I had explored the decent areas of Gotham, but although I had been trying to circle back I could never seem to find the righ-

"Oh shit."

Five fairly big guys stepped in front of me out of the shadows cast by the huge metal garbage containers that lined this alley. Five or more running behind me with an assortment of weapons I had glimpsed flashing. Metal then. _Hitting them will make this worse. Hurting any of them might get me killed. But there's a bigger chance of winning the lottery than me curling up in a ball and taking a beating. It might be clever to do so. It would be logical to protect myself. But I might not even live anyway. Hit them hard. _

I didn't stop, slow down or hesitate at all. They were stood in a loose line and I aimed for the biggest, ugliest motherfucker in front of me. 3 metres from Mr Bugly I suddenly jumped off my left leg, twisted my body horizontally and kicked out with my right leg to crunch against his jaw. His head snapped backwards. Snapped. I could hear it like I could hear my foot snap a twig on the ground or the sound when a pepsi can is opened. No time to think on it as I crashed down with my lower body over Bugly while my forearms broke my fall. Sharp gasps came from above me, footsteps rapidly getting closer. Using the second of surprise at my tactic I reached out with one hand to the leg closest to me and yanked with all my strength-

"Gahh" came from thug 1 while I used my other hand to brace and then push back onto my feet, avoiding the kick from thug 2 to my right that whistled past my face. I twisted to face him and while he recovered his balance I Sparta kicked him in the chest, this time with my left leg as my weight had shifted over my right foot. Thug 2 flew back and smashed into the garbage container but my head was already swivelling left again, tracking thug 1 rising back to his feet and his buddy with the balaclava stepping forward, arm raised holding a baton. I stepped closer like I was taught to try reduce his swing, but it still came down onto my left forearm with a sick thud. Swinging my right arm in a cross to catch his chin and knock him unconscious and then duck a punch from thug 1- _was what should have happened. _

I had forgot all about thug 4. Five thugs, two on each side after I air-kicked Bugly and **I got complacent! **

I swung my right arm but half-way through the action I felt a huge force come down on my head. My legs collapsed under me while my right cross hit balaclava's left arm instead of his chin. I fell sideways to break my fall and roll out of harms way, then put my arms up in a boxing position to protect my head. Nothing. I looked towards the 3 thugs who hadn't advanced and had that sick feeling you get on rollercoasters.

No more footsteps.

"ACH"

I abruptly woke up, choking on something blocking my airway. My vision was blurred and my right arm didn't respond and _why can't I move my arm_! My left arm moved but my hand throbbed with my racing heartbeat and wouldn't unclench from the fist it was making.

"ACH, UCH ugh" I spat, finally drinking in air while whatever I had coughed up dribbled down my face onto my chest. I tried using my left forearm to rub at my eyes and clear whatever was coating them except it only seemed to smear it and now I could feel trickles of it oozing across my forehead into my eyes _BREATHE._

For the next, well I don't know. The pain was starting to kick in as I assumed my adrenaline levels dropped. I couldn't even pinpoint the pain, all I knew was that each limb, my torso and my head radiated sharp yet aching pain that seemed to get worse the more I thought about it. So I tried not to and focused on breathing in the cool air, knowing that however bad it was _I survived. I am alive. _

_In. Out. In. Out. _

When I eventually felt more aware, more cognisant and stable I tried again to stop the flow of blood obstructing my vision by holding my left forearm in place over my eyebrows. After a few seconds and blinking away the drops that clung to my eyelashes I observed my surroundings. I expected a ditch, a warehouse, perhaps even the docks where I could be disposed of in the water.

Across from me the two bodies of thug 2 and Bugly told me I was exactly in the same place. Bugly was on his back, flat on the ground, arms gracelessly splayed and his head staring lifelessly in my direction. Thug 2 was crumpled over on his right side with his head down. Blood had gushed out from a deep gash to the back of his skull and I nearly lost my stomachs contents when I saw pieces of occipital bone poking out. They caught the moonlight in an eerie reflection that took a lot of willpower to look away from and push to the back of my mind. _Now was not the time for a pathetic break down. _

I realised I was slumped against a wall behind me and tried shifting myself further into a sitting position. Pain lanced through me. I gritted my teeth, found some purchase with my feet and slid back until I felt my ass against the wall, using my left arm as a balance. Not a couple minutes later did I realise there weren't new trails of blood running down my face. In fact, I could feel an itch, like a thousand ants across my body mute the pain to a bearable level. The itch seemed to be concentrated to where the pain was, and even I could work out that this was something to do with my power. That, or I had pins and needles turned up to dial 11.

All I could do was wait yet that was the last thing I wanted.

_Did I die? Was I just knocked unconscious, beat to shit with my bones broken and left here with their dead buddies? They wouldn't just leave this crime scene here. Maybe they were scared off; this is the city of the bat and his adopted pups after all. Or maybe they left to collect vehicles to load 3 dead bodies into and drop off at the nearest body disposal area. Hmm_

_I need to be gone soon._

Ultimately it took what I estimated to be 10 minutes to heal enough to stand. It wasn't ten minutes of boredom though. The feeling of my bones shifting into place, wounds pulling closed both on the surface and internally was jarring and incidentally enough, not something I want to experience again. Hobbling to my feet, I used the wall for stability, and then when I was reassured I wouldn't just crumple back to the ground, headed straight to the two dead bodies.

Neither had ID's but they each had stacks of twenties in their back pockets which I _morally ambiguously _looted from the cooling corpses. I picked up one knuckleduster, a hunting knife, a small taser as well as two dog tags with what looked to be Russian lettering. I shook my head at my obliviousness. They clearly looked eastern European, but high on adrenaline, pain and panic all I had noticed was size and the knife scars Bugly had across his face. It was probably not that kind of me to have targeted him for that and his extra height but right now I wasn't going to admonish myself.

I checked my watch now I had full bodily control. Only 30 minutes had passed since I got out from my self defence class and stumbled upon the original five men harassing a woman who was also from the class. She had shot out of the class at the end, I don't know why, but ended up with a harried and anguished face in the middle of them a little way into a side alley. I was going to walk away. _I was going to walk away. _

She looked right at me, and still I walked past them. Ten yards before I heard a desperate "Let me go! I'm begging you please please I need to get home to my daughters!" I stopped yet didn't turn around. A debate was raging in my head, one side standing on the moral high ground, one side standing on the 'Don't be a stupid reckless Gryffindor' ground.

I didn't turn around and create a distraction for the woman. Or for her children. Or for any noble ideals. I turned around because I was pumped full of endorphins and testosterone from the recent workout combined with my inflated ego from the positive comments the instructor had told me. I thought I was ten men.

"Hehehehehe" I chuckled, grinning from blood stained lips. I was worth two men it turns out.

I arrived at my apartment having used my phones GPS, detouring once to drop into one of the many Gotham rivers to wash off most of the blood and attempt to lose any evidence of the two dead men. Before heading straight for the shower I peeled off my clothes and put them in a black bin bag to dispose of later. I sat in the shower a good while, coming to terms with the nights events and rationalising it in my mind. Maybe I would have nightmares, but I didn't want it to affect me during the day, nor my emotions. Once I felt clean, inside and out, I got out and changed into new clothes. I went round the apartment, making sure each window was locked and the door dead bolted.

_So, I have a healing factor than extends to my bones, skin or maybe even my whole body. That's handy _were my last thoughts of that thursday.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I woke up that Friday morning feeling both empty and angsty. I wavered between complete apathy over the nights events to feeling so much emotion I couldn't identify _what _I felt to understand why my throat was in my mouth and my stomach in knots. _Maybe this will take a little longer to get over than one night sat in the shower. _

Underlying all of it was the grim amusement that both last night and this morning showed _I do panic. _I felt like laughing when I remembered an old adage that 'knowing oneself is half the battle'. In an attempt to distract my mind from its yoyoing I reached for my phone to search it and found it was a quote from Sun Tzu:

"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle."

_No prizes for which one encapsulates last night. I didn't know myself, my capabilities, the way I would react in such a high-strung situation. I certainly didn't know the gang I faced. I cant do anything about knowing my enemy apart from continue to learn about the world I'm in. I can learn about myself though, and train to know my limits. _

I got side-tracked then by reading and following links all to do with Sun Tzu, which took up plenty of my morning but also got me emotionally ready for the day of classes. I walked into Advanced Math for the 3 hour lesson _(getting beat to death might be livelier) _and greeted Miss Gordon with my usual "morning". Unusually though I didn't get a frown, or even a turned up nose _(I was never getting rid of that first impression). _I got a sleepy grunt. She had her head turned away from me, resting on crossed arms that were on her table. A good portion of her vivid red hair was splayed out on my table it was so long, but from my position stood getting out my laptop, she looked so cute and tired I wasn't going to make a fuss.

I sat at my chair, pulled a little away from the table and put my laptop on my lap instead. I wrote my notes for the class, attempted to follow the workings on the board and spent the 10 minute break _(after what felt like a lifetime) _taking peeks at Gordons cute left ear poking out of the waves of crimson. I could imagine what she was up to last night _call me the joker_ to be this tired in the morning. I ruefully smiled to myself while gearing up for the last half of hell.

As we got to the end of the lesson I saved the document and sent a copy to Gordon as a hopeful peace offering, tacking on the homework and reading for next lesson in the email. The bell rang to signal the end of the lesson which caused Gordon to bolt upright, bewildered expression on her face and half her hair flattened and kinked from lying on it.

"Good morning Miss Gordon, could I remind you this is a class and not a bedroom, next time this happens I wont be so lenient" said Professor Green, getting a tittering of laughter from the rest of the room. Personally I thought that was a little snide and unwelcome considering she could have quietly woke Gordon up at any point, but I hadn't woken her up either.

"Apologies Miss Green, it won't happen again" replied Gordon, a blank mask flitting across her face.

"See to it that it doesn't" was Professor Green's parting shot before leaving the classroom, more laughter following after her.

"Why didn't you wake me up!" Gordon's harsh whisper blindsided me.

"Huh" I said, and turned to look at her.

"You heard me. Why didn't you wake me?" she said again, blank mask gone from her face.

"You looked like you needed it, and I didn't know if you wanted to be woken up or wanted to sleep.." I trailed off, brow furrowed in confusion. _How was this my fault?_

"Well next time you know what I need, do the opposite and save me the embarrassment!" she snarled, green eyes flashing before she lifted her bag and strode from the room. I was still sat there, confused, maybe a little angry.

_God help me if my enemy is ever a woman, because I don't think I'm ever going to understand them. _

**Trigger warning for self-harm (but not in a self-harm context)**

I got home after the long day of classes, and instead of heading to the gym I decided to test my new thoughts about my healing factor. I wasn't masochistic, and honestly I thought it was both morbid and risky to start hurting myself. However, if _I didn't know myself.._. I wanted to know what I was capable. Especially in a safe place before being stabbed on the streets and not knowing how quick I healed, how slow, how dangerous it was. I didn't start by stabbing myself though.

I went to the kitchen cupboards and found a sharp pin. I didn't stick it right in, but instead slowly worked underneath a layer of skin like I saw kids at school do. It wasn't painful. Once I had got the pin about a cm in, just under one layer, I took it out and waited. I eventually wasted 20 minutes, waiting as much time as I knew it took last night for me to regain consciousness. Nothing happened. So I decided to go deeper. I took the pin and instead of poking at the top layer poked at the second layer, which was painful and immediately I felt that little itch, that tingle when I breached it. I quickly pulled back and watched as the tiny puncture, no blood even, healed over in seconds. _Do I have to innervate the nerves for it to heal? Makes sense I guess. _

I upgraded next to a sharp knife and lightly made a two-inch cut along the outside of my left forearm. It wasn't quite instantaneous, but again, in seconds the fibres had knitted back together leaving nothing behind to show for it. It looked as if new skin was created rapidly from both sides of the cut, and the two sides almost stretched/melted together and fused together, starting at where the cut originated from. Honestly it looked like how a zipper works on a jacket.

At this point I stopped. I could carry on testing myself, using a hammer to break bones, but I wasn't masochistic, or more than I already was. Instead I got out the knife and knuckleduster I had stashed under the sink to train with. First I washed them in bleach to get rid of any fingerprints of anyone else, then looked around on youtube for katas or movements that incorporated a knife or a knuckleduster. I cleared a large area in the living area, moving the couch and tables to one side and also closing all the blinds. I found a few good tutorials that showcased either one or other weapon, but not together. After trying both ways I stuck with the knuckleduster on my right fist while I held the knife in my left.

Technically I was trash, but functionally I thought I could use my left to keep some space between myself and any attackers, and my right if they got too close. 2 hours later, having learnt some more foot movements and attacks than I did during the defence class, I finished and decided to have dinner, then an early sleep to make the most of the weekend.

The weekend itself was training, gym, eating on repeat.

Monday came, and I arrived at Math with 5 minutes to spare. I was getting my things out with my head down as Gordon sat down and did the same.

"Thank you" she said.

That was all I got, no apology, but it was enough. I sat through the class with a small smile, and when Gordon left, I thought I saw a smile crease her face too.

I was stretching off after my own workout, before the defence class when the woman from last Thursday was suddenly in front of me. She looked maybe 25, closer to my real _past world _age than my age here. Wringing her hands, she simultaneously looked relieved, confused and angry all at once which screwed up her face adorably.

"How.. I thought.. you stupid reckless.. I mean you're okay!" She made a show of looking me over, checking that I didn't have any injuries she couldn't immediately see.

"Yes?"

"How did you do it? There were five of them and I'm so sorry for running off when you distracted them! I feel terrible about it!"

"Honestly it's okay miss, I managed to run away from them after a while, no harm no foul as they say" I replied, trying to downplay it all. _I don't need recognition for a good act I did for the wrong reasons. _

"Well it meant a lot to me so… so just thankyou, I don't want to think about what would have happened to me or my kids if-" she gulped, then reinforced, nodding her head "Thankyou very much sir".

"You're very welcome" I said, hoping to change the topic that was giving me an attack of conscience.

"I'm Catherine by the way" she said, holding out her hand and sheepishly smiling.

Chuckling, I replied "David, its nice to meet you". We shared a laugh, and for the whole of the class kept up a friendly conversation. I told her about being a student and my love of going to the gym, and why I was taking this class. She spoke about her daughters, Catelyn (2) and Charlotte (4), and the girl friends she had who all stayed at the same apartment block. Her daughters were being babysat by these friends. She was a beautiful woman, but when she spoke of her children her entire _being _lit up. She was rightfully smitten and loved to tell stories of what they'd been up to. I laughed heavily when she told me she had kept a tally of which friends had been puked on the most!

It wasn't just her that had children, it seemed maybe half her friendship group had children. I could also see she very carefully avoided talk of work or jobs but I didn't pry want to pry. I suspected of course, but I wasn't going to put my foot in my mouth if I was wrong.

The two hours flew by and I could see she was antsy to get home. Before she could rush off, I interrupted "Hey Cat, want me to walk you home?", thinking of Thursday and what I could do to make up for nearly walking away.

"Erm David, you're really sweet but you're a little too young for me" she said, giving me probably the nicest let down even if that wasn't my angle. She genuinely looked remorseful _bless her. _

"I didn't mean it like that Cat I promise, it's just I don't want you to be ambushed again, and maybe if you're walking with someone it'll help."

"Oh. Yeah that would be great actually. You sure you don't mind, its over by the Pizzaria on 7th street". That was inside the border I'd put in my head of where _not_ to go in Gotham. Granted it was also a 10 minute walk in the wrong direction, but I liked Catherine and since she was my first friend here I'd be really stupid to let her get hurt.

"No problem Cat, lets go" I replied.

Not far from the Basement the atmosphere seemed to get colder, harsher somehow that I wasn't convinced was natural. I didn't know what Gotham was built on, but if it was above an Aztec sacrifice site I would not be surprised. _Magic was real in this reality, right? _Those we met on the streets eyed us warily, just as I did right back. Catherine stuck close, taking my hand in hers with the comment "Less likely to be targeted this way" and I didn't want to know _how _she knew that.

Luckily we got to her apartment block with no problems, where she gave me a quick hug, then went about unlocking the 5 different locks and chains keeping the front door shut. She gave me a rueful smile at that, and once she was safely inside I hightailed it back to my apartment, thanking my lucky stars that alternate me lived in a better borough.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Time skip- 3months. Middle of December.

Every month I lived in this reality and woke up to the Gotham skyline outside my bedroom window strengthened my resolve to put my all into this life. There was no half-assing this second chance. And not only that, but I had POWERS. Okay maybe I didn't have spider powers, or flight, or laser eyes, or the speed force, or super strength, or magic. _I've been given a pretty shitty hand actually._

No instant cool powers, no gamer manual to make this reality a piece of cake. Instead it was, as cliché as it sounds, blood sweat and tears each day. Working my ass off to keep my scholarship, working hard at the gym, at the defence class. Training harder than I have ever done in my entire life.

It had paid off though. It had paid off so much that I couldn't be that upset that I didn't have super powers in one sense. I felt so much happier, looking in the mirror and seeing the proof of my work, of my achievement. _I did this. Myself, with my hands and my effort_

I had grown two inches in height _fuck yeah _to reach 6 foot even. I had no idea if that was a result of my healthy protein diet, of natural growth that males go through in their late teens, or some aspect of my meta powers. I still had the same face, though my jaw line looked sharper, defined by my jaw muscles and neck muscles that flexed as I moved my chin.

My eyes had changed a little too which did scare me a little. They were originally a hazel colour, a dim orange centre coiled around my pupil framed with an outer ring of moss green. Although it sounds pretty awesome, if you looked further back than a foot from my eyes all you really saw was a strange shade of brown as the colours bled into each other. Now though, looking into my own eyes the ring of green had disappeared while the orange had expanded, covering my entire iris. The orange had gone from dim to striking, shining with an inner flame.

My frame had broadened, shoulders carrying thick ropes of muscle down my arms and my back. My arms had tripled in size, lines of muscles twisting around each other in my forearms while my biceps and triceps dominated my upper arms. My torso had gone from a slim rectangle to a beefy triangle. A large wide chest that swept down into defined and bulky abdominals before tapering into the V of my groin. Strong trunks had replaced the feeble chicken legs I started with. Powerful quads and hamstrings from the many squats and deadlifts and defined calves that refused to grow despite my best efforts… _typical. _

Veins ran across my entire body, a pale green against my equally pale skin due to the lack of Gotham sun. I was particularly proud of the vein that started near my belly button and forked, like an arrow of lightening down towards my crotch_. You can guess why. _

I had already outdone my previous self and now weighed 215lbs of muscle. Not only my visual size had changed though. This wasn't just muscle for show like a bodybuilder's. This was dense functionally strong muscle allowing me to lift weights I had only ever seen moved at Strongman events. Casually squatting and deadlifting over a 1000lbs was a regular occurrence to me while my bench had reached over 650lbs. I hadn't just focused on raw strength though. Strength is nothing if you can't use it, if you're not _quick _enough to use it.

Unfortunately Gotham didn't seem to have an athletics club, or even a place to go running. Although I had got bigger and stronger, I wasn't prepared to spend more time training on the streets than I needed to. That meant I only had the 30 metre track in the gym to test my speed to see how quick I had gotten. The first time I was tested _thankyou Cat_ I came in at 4 seconds. Woeful. Now I ran a 2.4 second 30 metre consistently. To augment my speed training I did box jumps, agility runs and just plain treadmill running. It was the most boring of all my exercises but it needed to be done.

The defence training along with my personal home weapon training had improved too, though not at the same rate. Without a sparring partner for the weapons training I had no idea how it would fare against an opponent. I could plan and choreograph moves until I was a well-oiled machine, but would it hold against the unpredictable moves of a random thug?

I had progressed to sparring against the defence instructor Marcus however. Initially as a class we learnt defensive moves to evade, to escape. We used the opponents weight and movement against them while learning how to _take _a hit and not get hurt. We would practice being thrown to the ground, rolling to one side quickly, ducking straight punches, haymaker punches and any kind of punches until we had it down to a habit. Then we learnt to block a slow punch, then a quicker punch, then a kick or a knee. We moved on to breaking out of a grab from the front or the back, using the mechanics of joints to unlock a hold, or even throw back your head to break a nose. After weeks of practicing how to DEFEND, so we could escape unscathed, Marcus then had us learn how to throw those same punches.

The class had almost halved by the time we got to the offensive stage. Some complained that we didn't learn how to hit others, others had learnt enough for their needs and some just got bored. What I found though, is that having known how to duck, block and redirect made it so much easier to punch and make it land. We knew the tricks, the tells of each defensive move. We knew how quick someone could react, and where their heads would go. We knew those areas that were easier to target, the weaknesses like the kidneys and the larynx that could debilitate anyone.

At first I paired up with Cat, as we were friends and knew each other, but it quickly became apparent that I had to hold back a lot. Any sparring we did (with headguards, gloves, knee pads etc) didn't help us at all. She couldn't land a punch, and I feared landing anything regardless of the protection we wore. Two sessions of this and another person dropping out, Marcus sparred with me and Cat sparred with another woman called Melanie.

Now Marcus was tough. Really tough. The bastard looked to be around mid 40s, always had stubble, and was over 6 feet tall and built like a wall. In one of the many conversations after having my ass handed to me he mentioned he knew a few different martial arts, but he was and would always remain a natural boxer. It felt like fighting a wild tiger. He cottoned on quick to my 'ability' to take some real punishment and appear not to be hurt (my healing had also sped up) so he decided I could handle him not pulling his punches.

I was lucky if I got knocked to the mat 5 times a session. Bad days had me go down, head swimming and eyes blurry for a few seconds at least 15 times. Most spars I ended up with blood in my mouth, either from coughing it up or cutting my gums on teeth as he clocked me in the face. It got to the point where Cat would fret over me and question if it was even worth it.

It 100% was. 6 weeks of training/sparring with the beast had me improve quicker than I could have with anyone else. Just because I could heal didn't mean I liked being hit. And the biggest motivation to duck quicker, block quicker, counterattack harder… getting hit. Each time I came back, each week I turned up for more punishment I could see his eyes gain a little more respect. Then he would go harder at me, as if to say 'You came back after last week's session, so you can handle just a little bit more".

Of course I haven't beaten him, and I don't think he's gone all out either… but I'm not the only one walking away with a bust lip anymore. Mine just heals quicker.

"That's enough for today everyone. Good job and I'll see you next week!" grunted Marcus. I could the shuffle of people to the changing rooms, or those who milled around to gossip. Catherine wasn't here with me today, so I didn't need to be up to escort her home. In fact, _the floor is really comfy, why don't I just stay here for a bit? _

"Get your ass up, I'm not done with you yet" came from above me. I opened one eye to see Marcus standing there, sadistic like grin on his face which made me regret coming to practice at all. I closed that eye and tried to search for the motivation to get beat up again. I obviously wasn't fast enough because-

UMPFH

I got a fairly hard kick in the side, followed by a stomp I rolled out of the way from, smoothly _I wish _getting to my feet in a defensive position.

"That's a low blow even for you Marcus" I said.

"There are no low blows, you know that by now cub" shot back Marcus.

"Tell that to my ribs old man" I grinned.

"Oh you gonna be crawling home now rookie" were the last words before our after hours spar.

The next 30 minutes were a whirlwind of ducking, punching and blocking. With my regeneration it was very hard to get physically drained, but mentally it was another ball game. I tried to keep loose, keep aware of my surroundings and think of a strategy to get the upper hand. Every minute was harder though. Sweat dripped down my brow. Thudding of my heart and the rush of air in and out of my lungs was all I heard. My vision narrowed down to Marcus' ugly mug. His fists. His feet. I watched for any tells, any twitches. Our feet pounded a pattern on the gym mats while our arms pounded each other. It was like all higher functions had switched off. Only the fight existed.

After 5 minutes he seemed to get even quicker and his leg flashed out to incorporate some kick boxing. The first one I got hit by. The second and third too. The fourth time I saw it quick enough. I stepped inside the arc of his foot, gripping it with one hand while the other elbow twisted round to hit his head. Instead he leant back and jumped with his standing foot to push off my chest, sending both of us to the mat.

I was on my feet stepping forwards with my guard up before I registered his hands up, palms towards me-

"David, DAVID hey man spar over" Marcus said. I breathed heavily for a few seconds. It was almost a system reboot.

"Got it Marcus" I replied. I scanned the rest of the gym and found it empty. _How did I not notice that. _

"You sure cub?" Marcus had this strange look on his face, _was it appraising? _

"Yeah yeah, sorry old man, just had tunnel vision for a second there" I said back and headed straight to the bench with my water and BCAAs. Marcus let me be for the minute while I guzzled down as much water as I could without retching. Not too long after I felt back to normal, but I didn't know if what happened was a good or a bad thing.

"You back to normal cub?" questioned Marcus.

"What's normal in this world eh Marcus?"

"Too true cub," he paused "You did good today. I know you know I've been going tough on you. But today proved it cub. You have improved so much. In fact you may be my best student yet, and from me that's saying something." The way he said that last line made me think he'd trained some world champion boxer or something.

"Really? Who have you trained, Mike Tyson?" I joked.

"Pffft he's a little kitty cat in comparison. I bet even you could win a boxing match against Tyson now" he bantered back.

I couldn't reply straight away, having spat out the mouthful of water I had in my mouth.

"Give over old man" I finally managed to get out.

"I'm being serious David. I may not be going all guns blazing on you, but my skills as a boxer had me as a pretty successful pro at one time" he said.

"Oh yeah, as who?" I wasn't that knowledgeable of this universe's boxing stars, but I did know that Tyson was present in both. But I had never seen a 'Marcus' at the top level like he was suggesting.

"Wildcat".


End file.
